


Scenes from "Justice"

by Trojie



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Police, Buddy-Cop, Community: reel_merlin, M/M, Magic, Magic Revealed, Merlin Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-21
Updated: 2011-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-23 22:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magic has just been decriminalised, which makes this PC Merlin Emrys's best day ever ... right up until the new sergeant shows up.</p><p>Written for Reel_Merlin 2011 - Movie Prompt: Hot Fuzz</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scenes from "Justice"

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers/Warnings:** No real spoilers, warning for some (non-graphic) murders. Modern AU with magic. Apparently in this 'verse Anne McCaffrey is a dangerous propagandist and _Harry Potter_ is revolutionary literature? IDEK. Morgana, Morgause and Arthur are all completely unrelated, also.  
> 

'Pint of lager please, Mary,' Merlin says, slurring his way across the bar. This is not the first pint of lager tonight, and it will _not_ be the last. Because do you know what the Government did today? They decriminalised magic.

'Right you are, my love!'

Merlin is no longer committing crimes simply by existing, and he is going to celebrate, thank you very much. He notes the new bloke (nice arse, grumpy expression) as he comes in - _Pint of lager please, Mary,_ \- and that he's drinking cranberry juice - _Right you are, my love!_ \- but doesn't bother overmuch beyond that. He's off-duty.

New bloke (must be the new Pendragon, the Inspector's son, but they weren't expecting him 'til tomorrow) is apparently _not_ off-duty. He cleans out the whole fuckin' pub of the kids, which seems a bit unfair. They weren't doing anyone any harm, were they?

('Pint of lager please, Mary,'

'Right you are, my love!')

Merlin looks at his watch. S'gettin' late. Might make this the last one, yeah? Yeah. Hometime. He pushes up and away off the bar, wanders out to find his car. Time to go home, Emrys. Time for sleep. Work tomorrow.

Merlin Emrys, welcome to the rest of your life where you're not a criminal. Too bad you're going to start it with a hangover and work in the morning.

Key won't go in the car door. Hey! Doesn't matter. You know how to fix this one, Emrys. Go on. He puts a hand flat (li'l bit shaky, maybe, li'l bit, not too bad though) over the keyhole, palm down, and _wills_ it open. His first deliberate spell. His first _legal_ spell. Wow, look at that.

'Hey, you're not planning on _driving_ that, are you?'

'What? No. No!'

Shit. Merlin just - Shit. He just, with his magic, and this guy … the Inspector _hates_ magic, and this guy is his _son_ , and yeah, okay, "decriminalised", but it's the _Inspector_ , right? And he's. He has a thing about magic, okay? Merlin'll lose his fucking _head_ if the Inspector finds out. His job and his head and his - mostly his job, but it might as well be his head.

He might be gibbering some of this out loud. He's getting a very strange look. 'Okay, okay, calm down, just stay calm,' says New Pendragon Bloke slowly, reaching for the keys.

'Don't tell the Inspector,' Merlin whispers, pleading, as the keys are snatched from his hand. _Why_ did he drink this much? Why?

'What?'

'Don't tell, please don't tell -' Merlin almost chants it as he's dragged through the streets of Sandford. Some of the others they pick up - Mrs Jackon's son, and young Pete from down the road from Gaius's place, and Cousin Mary's brother's second eldest who moved here from Ealdor not long after Merlin did - pick it up as well, until New Pendragon Bloke tells them all, exasperatedly but not unkindly, to shut it.

Leon's duty sergeant at the station, but no-one else is there, which given it's arse o'clock in the morning makes sense, yeah? Merlin manages to sneak off while the kids are being processed - Leon lets him into Cell Four without much fuss - and his head spins while he waits for sleep to come. He was an idiot to celebrate. Magic decriminalised! But … the Inspector …

Sandford has never been the friendliest place for magic-users. Back home in Ealdor, right, the rozzers used to turn a blind eye to a kid if he maybe joined in the fireworks on Bonfire Night, say, or if there were cat ears on Halloween. Just a bit of high spirits, right? No-one ever got hurt. But Merlin's seen the Inspector send kids off to borstal just for a few twiddle-fingered sparks. And much as he goes on about the law being the law … well, Merlin's seen him bend before, but never for this.

He doesn't know about Merlin, and if Merlin has anything to do with it, he never will. His uncle Gaius, who's the local doctor and also the head (and only member) of the Neighbourhood Watch Alliance, is the only person in town who knows, and while Gaius thinks the Inspector's stance is sensible, he'd never tell. He tells Merlin that his power will have a purpose one day, as if that ever helps.

Merlin wakes up fairly well-hungover in the morning, and lurches out to the locker room. He assumes he still has his job because his stuff is still in his locker. So he changes clothes, because a) his ones from last night kind of stink of pub and b) he _is_ on duty now. He forgets entirely about New Pendragon Bloke until he sees him march in, straight past the locker room towards the cells.

'He's gone!' New Pendragon Bloke exclaims from outside Cell Four after a second. Merlin ambles over, doing his tie up, to investigate.

'Who's gone?' he asks with interest, slightly forgetting that he'd been the one kipping there last night.

'The - why are you dressed like a police officer?'

'Because ... I am one?' From the shock in New Pendragon Bloke's eyes, apparently he's not used to off-duty policemen sleeping off their indiscretions in the nick. Maybe they do things differently in the big city.

Before Merlin can explain, the Inspector to turn up and introduce New Pendragon Bloke to Merlin as _Sergeant_ Arthur Pendragon. When he shows Sergeant Pendragon around, with Merlin trailing them for lack of anything better to do, the Inspector is almost smiling.

***

They go to the pub for lunch, and it is _tense_. Merlin had his suspicions it was going to go down like this.

Y'see, Gwaine, their other sergeant, hates thinking he's going to be bossed around, so of course he's all crossed arms and 'don't think you can come round here and tell us how to do our jobs,' as soon as Sergeant Pendragon says a word. It's not like Gwaine _really_ means it, he's a nice bloke at heart, but Sergeant Pendragon looks a bit taken aback, so he might not realise that.

Morgana and Morgause just raise their eyebrows at Sergeant Pendragon. But they do that to everyone, just because they're detectives. Whoop-de-doo. Mostly what they do is act like a live-commentary gossip column, anyway.

Gwen smiles and bobs like she's going to curtsey and basically attempts a heroic one-woman social rescue mission, trying to make up for the colossal amounts of instant dislike, but she's maybe being a bit _too_ friendly, and Lancelot starts to glare from behind his pint. Which is a bit unfair, because it's not like _he's_ actually asked her out, is it? (Plonker.)

'So, uh, Sergeant Pendragon,' Merlin says after the silence has dragged for a while (he should have said something earlier, but it's hard to _think_ of anything - small talk is a lot bigger of an issue than you'd think). 'I heard you were stabbed.'

'That's right,' says the Sergeant, in a voice that suggests Merlin probably shouldn't keep going.

Merlin doesn't exactly have any other options, though. So he says, attempting to be cheerful, 'So … What's it like, being stabbed?'

Merlin's going to have to interpret between the Sergeant and the rest of the station, right enough. But what he could really use is someone to interpret between the Sergeant and _him_.

***

Merlin's notebook has been unused since the day he was issued it.

The first shift he does with Sergeant Pendragon, it gets one note in it - _swan_ \- and a muddy webbed footprint over half of that page, and a rip to the cover.

The second shift he does with Sergeant Pendragon, it gets a good deal more written in it, although a lot of that gets crossed out. And also he's sick, though thankfully not on the notebook.

What happens is this:

They're sort of sitting around, twiddling their thumbs, with Merlin nursing a headache he's putting down to last night's sly one down at the Crown (he really needs to start drinking slower), when the Inspector gets a call. He gets his Serious Face on five seconds into it. 'Bit of work for you, Arthur,' he calls through after he's put the phone down. 'Young Michael Collins has had a bit of an accident down at his dad's garage.'

'Of course, Inspector,' says Sergeant Pendragon. He never calls his father anything but 'Inspector', at least at work. Merlin hasn't had the opportunity to find out if he calls him anything else outside of work just yet. He will soon, he hopes - he wants to get Sergeant Pendragon to come out for a drink. He looks like he needs to relax. Also, he's really fit.

(There aren't many fit blokes in Sandford. Merlin's current dry spell is as epic and unending as the Sahara. And while he doesn't exactly think Sergeant Pendragon is going to help him with that, well, he can dream, can't he? And ogle.)

'Come on, Constable Emrys,' says Sergeant Pendragon, grabbing his hat. 'Let's go.'

'Should I put the lights on?' Merlin asks hopefully as they get into the car. 'If we're going to a crime scene and all.'

'The siren and lights are only for use in situations where we need to alert the public to our need to pass safely and speedily,' Sergeant Pendragon says reprovingly. 'I'm not sure we're in that much of a hurry, are we?'

'We never seem to be, round here,' grumbles Merlin, and starts the engine. They poodle up the lane to the junction with the main road, whereupon they get stuck behind Mrs Davis in her ancient Citroen 2CV.

Sergeant Pendragon sits there quite patiently for five seconds and then says, 'Siren, Constable Emrys?' in a slightly strained voice through his gritted teeth.

Merlin grins, and flicks the switch, and they're off. And for the four minutes and twenty-three seconds it takes them to get to the Sandford Garage, it's basically the best day at work ever. Thirty-seven seconds after that it takes a turn for the really, really worse. This is because they walk through the main door into the garage to find that Michael Collins has had his head cut off.

Something swirls and moves and tugs at Merlin's magic, throwing him dizzy and off-balance. It turns his stomach almost as much as, well, the blood.

'Right,' says Sergeant Pendragon after Merlin's finished being sick. He looks a little pale himself, but Merlin supposes he's used to seeing things like that, back in the city. 'You go and call the doctor, and I'll secure the scene.'

Merlin calls Gaius. Then he gets out his notebook as instructed and writes down the things Sergeant Pendragon is saying, trying not to think too hard about what those things are or to look at the places Sergeant Pendragon points. Merlin reminds himself that this is, surely, real policework.

He wants the swan back.

He's never been so glad to see a body-bag in his life. In fact, this is actually the first body-bag he has seen in his life. Gaius zips Michael Collins, both bits of him, away, and turns to the Sergeant. 'Just a nasty accident, I'm sure,' he says reassuringly. 'We'll have a look at him and let the Inspector know.'

Merlin starts to write down that it's just an accident, but as Gaius (and Michael) leave in the ambulance, Sergeant Pendragon puts his hand over Merlin's to stop his pen. 'I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, Constable,' he says. There's a strange expression on his face. 'Best not to jump to conclusions.'

'Right,' says Merlin, not seeing what he means. 'Listen,' he adds, putting his notebook in his pocket. 'Are you doing anything tonight? Fancy going to the pub?'

'I'm afraid I've got to water my Japanese peace lily,' says the Sergeant. 'And we've both got work in the morning. Do you think it's entirely _wise_ to be getting drunk?'

'Not _drunk_ ,' Merlin protests. 'Just a bit merry.'

'No, thank you,' says the Sergeant. 'I hardly think 'merry' is appropriate, in the circumstances.'

Merlin goes by himself. ('Pint of lager please, Mary.' 'Right you are, my love!') And maybe he does get drunk. But after what he's just seen, is it any wonder? A terrible accident to happen to anyone, that was. Just terrible.

***

Gaius is waiting for Merlin in his flat when he finally rolls home. 'Ah, Merlin,' he says, sounding like a schoolteacher, like he always does. He's sitting in the big squashy armchair near the telly.

Merlin sinks onto the sofa. 'Am I behind on the rent?' he asks, confusedly. He doesn't remember missing a payment, and nothing needs fixing …

'No, no, nothing like that. Just a social visit, I'm pleased to say,' Gaius smiles, turning up one corner of his mouth. 'How are you, my boy? We haven't seen much of each other lately except professionally, I fear.'

'Fine,' says Merlin. 'I'm, I'm fine. Nasty day at work with that accident and everything. Uh, but you knew about that,' he adds, awkwardly. 'New partner at work, too. Um. You?'

'I'm fine,' says Gaius. 'How are you finding working with Sergeant Pendragon?'

'He's good,' says Merlin. He might possibly be smiling a little bit madly, but he kind of likes Sergeant Pendragon. He doesn't know if the Sergeant likes him, but he _wants_ him to.

'The Inspector tells me he's a little gung-ho,' Gaius says. He doesn't sound like he approves, which means the Inspector probably doesn't approve. They're thick as thieves, Gaius and him. It'd make Merlin nervous, probably, if he didn't trust Gaius like he does. Gaius is family.

'You'd think he'd be proud.' Merlin rolls his eyes. 'The Sergeant cares, y'know?'

'He's got a few dangerous ideas.'

'He really cares about the law, though. Really cares,' and Merlin's emotions are kind of right on display with all this booze, aren't they. Gaius frowns.

'You haven't _told_ him, have you? Merlin, I know magic is legal now, but you still have to be careful -'

'No no no,' says Merlin. 'Noooo no no no no.'

'Hmmm. Good.' Gaius gets up. 'Well, I should be going -'

'D'y'wanna cup of tea?' Merlin asks, belatedly remembering his duties as host.

'No thank you,' says Gaius. 'I'll see myself out - I've drawn the late surveillance shift for the NWA up at the station, and I'll be late at this rate. Sleep well, Merlin.'

Merlin falls asleep with his legs dangling over the edge of the couch and the lights on, and when he wakes up, he thinks he's got to stop drinking like this. He doesn't remember much about the night before, but the big hazy gap in his memory after seeing Gaius sitting in his armchair is warning enough. Maybe Gaius was right to check on him (which is blatantly what he was doing - 'social visit', hah).

He thinks maybe he dreamt, but it's hazy and he the bits he does remember he doesn't like - too much of the crime-scene flavours it, too much of Sergeant Pendragon in a starring role that Merlin doesn't remember the details of.

***

The next day, the results come back from Gaius, all pointing to accidental death by decapitation. Morgana and Morgause can't find anything. The Inspector declares Michael Collins's death a fatal misadventure.

Sergeant Pendragon says nothing, but Merlin's starting to be able to tell when he's not happy.

They spend their afternoon chasing the stupid swan again, and Merlin still can't persuade the Sergeant to come to the pub with him in the evening.

***

'You alright, Constable?' says the Sergeant on the second morning. Merlin's putting pressure on his temples to stop yet another splitting bloody headache that's plagued him since he woke up.

'Hangover,' he says sheepishly, and pretends he doesn't see the Sergeant's reproving glare.

'There's been another accident, up at the Knights' place,' says the Inspector, poking his head out of his office door. 'That young idiot Valiant's been taking things he shouldn't again.' He doesn't look impressed, but then again, he seldom does.

The Sergeant gets his hat.

***

The headache is worse on the third morning. Gaius gives Merlin some painkillers so strong that Merlin suspects they're actually horse-tranquilisers. They make him a bit vague - or rather, vaguer than usual, according to the Sergeant, who takes over the driving after one look at Merlin's face.

This is probably a good thing, because they spend most of the morning on the move, looking for an orange coat and blonde hair; asking anyone if they've seen seventeen-year-old Sophie Sheehan, and not driving frees Merlin up to do the talking. She's gone missing overnight, and her dad is distraught. The Inspector is sure she's just run away to London; for a young girl like her, Sandford isn't the most exciting place. And of course, there is the small matter of her having been dating Michael Collins. News like that is apt to make anyone a little crazy.

There's no sign of her anywhere, and no-one has seen her. It breaks Merlin's heart, partly because he knew the girl a little and she was sweet and too young to have run away to the big city, but also partly because of how the Sergeant's face shuts up just that bit tighter every time someone tells them they've not seen her since such and such a day.

By the time they get back to the station, the Sergeant is so wound up that he's almost shaking with it.

The Inspector says 'Oh, well. That's sad. We'll keep looking, of course, but -'

The Sergeant interrupts with, 'Can I have a word with you in private, sir?' and doesn't wait for the answer before stomping into the Inspector's office.

Morgana and Morgause, Gwen, Lance and Gwaine all crowd around to watch the festivities through the office window. 'He's a nutter,' says Gwaine with some conviction. 'Who goes up against the old man like that?'

'Well, we all should, really,' says Gwen. 'I mean, if we really think there's more we could be doing.'

'Oh yeah, it's very admirable,' says Morgana sarcastically. 'It's not going to do squat though, is it. The Inspector would never budge.'

'I think he's right,' says Lance unexpectedly. He doesn't exactly volunteer opinions often. 'One day's search isn't very much. She can't have gone far, surely.'

'There are other calls on our time, you know,' Morgause says, planting her hands on her hips. 'She'll turn up when she's hungry,' she adds.

'That's not very nice,' says Gwen.

'Bite me, PC Sunshine.' Morgause rolls her eyes and turns on her heels. 'Come on, Detective Constable le Fay, we have work to be doing.'

Lance slings his arm around Gwen as the detectives leave, and Merlin gets a momentary flash of hope that maybe soon he's going to make a move, but all he does is squeeze companionably and tell her not to listen to those harpies.

The argument goes on for a long, long time. The Sergeant comes out of it with a red, angry face. The Inspector stays put, clearly fuming.

'Pub?' the Sergeant asks Merlin, sweeping past him,

Merlin really shouldn't, given the horse-tranquilisers and all, but …

'Yeah, sure,' he says.

***

'Two killings and a mysterious disappearance in three days?' says Arthur (he told Merlin to call him 'Arthur' some time after the second pint). 'That _can't_ be coincidence.'

'They weren't killings,' Merlin points out. 'They were accidents.'

'Collins _accidentally_ cut off his own head?'

'Yeah. It's dangerous in a garage. He could've -'

'Could've what? Run full-tilt into a sheet of aluminium at neck height?'

Merlin shrugs defensively, feeling a little woozy. 'Could've!'

Arthur rolls his eyes, and adds, 'You do know that Valiant's test results came back positive for _adder venom_?'

'Crazy what these kids are doing to themselves these days,' Merlin says. 'Does adder venom even get you high?'

'No!' Arthur shouts, too loud. The rest of the bar turns around to look at him briefly. 'No, no it doesn't,' he whispers vehemently. 'He was bloody well _poisoned_. And I bet you any money Sophie hasn't "run away to London",' he adds sarcastically.

'But … who would want to kill Valiant? Or Michael?' Merlin asks. 'Or Sophie?'

'Good! Now you're starting to ask the right questions.' Arthur sits back. 'Look, Merlin, why did you _become_ a police officer?'

'My mum wanted me to get a job.' _Also she wanted me to stop accidentally setting fire to the woodshed._ Merlin adds mentally, but Arthur doesn't need to know that.

'So she sent you away from home?'

'No jobs back in Ealdor,' Merlin points out. 'It was either Sandford or Buford Abbey, and uncle Gaius lives here.' He shrugs. 'Turned out okay, didn't it?'

'What did your dad think?'

Merlin tries not to sound too bitter when he says, 'He's dead. Died in prison a few years before I moved out of home.'

Arthur's manner suddenly changes - from gung-ho to hesitant. 'I'm sorry,' he says. 'I - I lost my mum when I was little. It's hard, growing up with only one parent.'

'Yeah,' says Merlin, swigging his pint. 'He didn't even do anything _wrong_ , either, y'know? There aren't even any fucking dragons _left_.' He realises Arthur is giving him a funny look, and sighs. 'Dad was a Dragonlord. Which in this day and age is basically about as useful or dangerous as a natural gift for speaking Latin, so I don't see _why_ -'

'Counts as magic,' Arthur says, shrugging awkwardly. 'It's the law. Well, not any more, but it was. You're lucky it didn't stop you getting a job, actually. People used to be pretty bigoted about kids of sorcerers, even when they weren't sorcerers themselves.'

'Yeah, well,' says Merlin darkly into his drink.

'My mum was in a collision on the motorway,' volunteers Arthur after a second. 'Fatal misadventure, they said. Worst bit of it was that the other driver was her best mate, coming the other way. Dad was pretty cut-up.'

'I'm sorry,' says Merlin, and means it.

'Yeah, well,' Arthur echoes. He swirls the remaining lager in his glass and then downs it in one. His shoulders straighten, he sits up, and Merlin knows he's about to change the subject.

''How long have you been in Sandford?' he asks. 'I mean, you know everyone round here, yeah?'

Bingo. Merlin tries to drag his mind back to the right place for work. 'Well, kind of - ' he begins.

'Good. I need to work this out, and you're going to help me.' Arthur's face is all determined and set and stuff. He looks like he's about to go set the world to rights, blowing up as many things as possible on the way. Action-hero-y, y'know?

Merlin gives up trying to get into a working frame of mind - the beer and the horse-tranquilisers are too strong. He rests his chin on his hand instead, and looks at Arthur for a moment. 'Do you ever switch off?' he asks hazily.

'Pardon me?'

'You're always so … worky.' Merlin pokes at Arthur's chest. 'Work work work.'

'No, I just … this is important, Merlin. People have died.' He doesn't shout it, he says it low and intense and it's _true_ and and and -

'You're a police officer,' Arthur adds, and his eyes just hold Merlin there. 'Come on, partner,' he says.

Merlin sits up, and then winces as his head spins. 'What do you want to know?'

***

For the first time in a week, and despite the lager last night, Merlin wakes up without a headache. He rolls over in bed -

'Ack.'

The thing stabbing him in the side is his pencil, and his notebook is with it, and now as well as a swan's footprint and the memory of sick and some scratched out notes about accidental death, there's a list. It starts in Merlin's handwriting but quickly switches to what he assumes is Arthur's:

 _Michael Collins_  
\- Ran the garage  
\- Involved with Sophie Sheehan - her dad did NOT approve  
\- Mates with Valiant Knight

Okay, so it isn't many bullet-points, but it looks very official. There's a scribble below it that Merlin translates as _Meet me at the library when you wake up._

Merlin groans and scrabbles around for enough of his uniform to pass muster. The library isn't far from the station, and if he gets there now he has an hour before his shift starts to … help Arthur out with whatever it is Arthur's doing.

Turns out that what Arthur's doing is largely photocopying, but that's okay, Merlin knows how to do that.

'I've been doing some very interesting reading,' Arthur says, waving what looks like the full-page printout of school information - awards, sporting achievements, suspensions, expulsions - that the local secondary school takes out every year. 'Young Valiant was suspended for suspected sorcery.'

'Yeah, about that -' Merlin starts. 'Your dad's a bit, um -'

'And he and Sophie were classmates! They went to the same youth group - the one that the Inspector had shut down last year for conspiracy to commit witchcraft. Which Michael Collins's mum used to run!'

'It's just, when it comes to sorcery-crimes, the Inspector -'

'But who would be going around killing people linked to sorcery?' Arthur muses, still ignoring Merlin. 'I've _also_ been going through the council archives, and I've been finding some very interesting instances of condolences being sent out - this place used to be _rife_ with illegal magic! Some bloke called Sigan nearly levelled the place fifty years ago, and -'

'None of their sorcery was actually _proven_ ,' Merlin mutters, giving up a bit on Arthur actually listening. 'What if it's someone targeting school kids? Or … they were all in track-and-field, what if it's Buford Abbey staging a coup so that they'll win the annual athletics cup?' Perhaps that last one is a long shot, but Sophie, Michael and Valiant were _definitely_ all in the athletics team, whereas the magic thing was mostly rumour.

'I think it's Gaius,' says Arthur with some certainty. 'He's had access to all of the crime scenes, and he's clearly got motive - look, his ex-wife tried to kill him with a manticore.' He stabs a finger at the page of photocopying that says this.

'Uh - '

The librarian comes over at this point to shush them. His name is Edwin and quite frankly he's a creepy bastard, but Merlin would kind of rather Arthur wasn't shouting about how Merlin's uncle and landlord is a serial murderer in the middle of a public building.

'We'll leave,' says Arthur a bit grandly. 'We're due at work anyway,' and he turns to go. Merlin is about to follow him, when he sees someone in a black hood and cloak (bit suspicious, and a bit warm for summer, isn't it?) coming up behind Edwin, and -

\- and the headache _slams_ back into Merlin's skull as the knife bites into Edwin's collarbone, and without thinking, without Merlin's conscious mind having anything to do with it at all, his power throws the attacker to the ground in a burst of golden fire.

Merlin falls too, felled by the pain in his head and the sudden strangling fear, and he looks up groggily, hoping against hope that Arthur will have stayed looking in the other direction, that he hasn't seen, that he doesn't know Merlin for what he is, but …

Arthur's face is a rictus of questions, and behind him there is a lot of blood all over the reference desk.

Merlin faints.

When he comes to, Arthur is crouched over Edwin, his radio jammed between his mouth and shoulder, trying to staunch the flow of blood, but his hands are just staining redder and redder and it's not working. 'He's gone,' Arthur says finally and a bit disbelievingly, shocked, staring at his fingers.'Where's that fucking ambulance?' he snarls down the radio. 'Just get it here, all right?' and then drops it as he stands. 'You bastard, you -' he growls, twisting to where the hooded killer had fallen, but he's gone, a trail of books and papers marking where he'd clawed his way to his feet using the shelves.

Arthur's attention switches to Merlin instead, and Merlin doesn't know what to do, what to say, anything. 'We need to get to the station,' Arthur says grimly, and yanks Merlin up by the hand, smearing brown-red along his palm.

'Please,' says Merlin, his knees wanting to knock together. 'Don't tell the Inspector -'

'Don't tell the Inspector that you did your best to save a man's life?' Arthur asks, almost indignantly.

'Don't tell him I used magic,' Merlin whispers.

Arthur looks at him for a long moment, and then nods curtly. 'We're going to go and make our report,' he says. 'And then we're going to go about the rest of our shift. And _then_ ,' he says, 'you are going to tell me what this is all about.'

****

'- he hates magic, Arthur, he really does.'

'But it's legal now,' Arthur protests, and Merlin has to look at him, really look at him, to work out if he's taking the piss or not. They're both curled up on the couch at Merlin's house, and the universal healing properties of cups of tea have been tried and discarded in favour of the much stronger properties, healing or otherwise, of a couple of bottles of beer.

'I ... don't think that matters much,' says Merlin. 'I mean, there was Harry Blessing a few years ago - all he did was cast a luck charm for the Sandford FC, and your father hauled him up in front of the court. Charm didn't work in the end anyway,' he adds, taking another swig of beer. 'He's gone and lectured the whole school because of Halloween parties where nothing even happened except a couple of girls in pointy hats and a boy dressed up as Draco Malfoy.'

'Well, it was illegal,' Arthur points out. 'He was just -'

'There's no 'just' about it,' Merlin insists. 'He really really hates magic.'

'He employed you, didn't he?'

'Yeah, but he doesn't _know_. No-one knows. S'the only way to be safe, innit.'

Arthur bridles momentarily. 'Withholding your magical status is - _was_ a crime,' he says.

'Yeah. Which is exactly why I didn't tell anyone. And why I never use it. Keeping it hidden's the only safe way.' He's parroting Gaius now, but it doesn't matter. He's right - the only way to stop anyone finding out is to make sure no-one ever sees, and in these days with security cameras everywhere and the Inspector and living in this tiny village where everyone gossips, not doing magic's the only way not to get arrested. Although now … well. Merlin's going to have to think that over, his stupidity with the car-door the other night notwithstanding.

'I still think we need to consider Gaius's role in all of this,' Arthur says. 'He's got much stronger motive than my father, after all.'

'I suppose,' says Merlin, but he doesn't believe it. Gaius wouldn't do something like this, not for revenge against a woman who's been in prison for the past ten years. He's not irrational enough to take out anger on innocent people. 'So, what did you used to do for fun?' he asks, wanting to change the subject.

Arthur sighs, and opens another bottle. 'Not much.'

'I like to read,' Merlin confides woozily. 'You know? Like, _Lord of the Rings_ or _the Last Unicorn_ , or -'

'Fantasy novels,' says Arthur. 'But they're dangerous propaganda, you know -' and then he catches himself, taps his nose. 'I guess not any more, right? If it's okay to be a wizard it must be okay to read about them.'

'I don't see what's wrong with reading about them anyway,' says Merlin. 'If you're magic then it can't exactly make you _worse_ and if you're not magic then you can't be magic.'

'My dad never let me read those things,' Arthur says, and he sounds a little wistful.

'D'you wanna see my collection?' Merlin asks hopefully. He gets up and opens up the cabinet that hides all his dubious books, and hands Arthur _Dragonflight_. 'My mum hated this one, even though it wasn't about _magic_ dragons,' he says. 'It's sci-fi, y'know? The dragons are all … bioengineered and shit. But it made me wish so hard that that was what the world could be like. That and _Harry Potter_ , I guess.'

Arthur flips through the book. 'Maybe that's what the world is going to be like now?' he says. 'I mean, it's not against the law any more.'

'Not everyone thinks the law is right,' says Merlin, flopping back onto the couch. 'Now you're gonna have all the people who thought it _used_ to be right being angry. I'm never gonna be able to walk around and just do magic like it's no big deal.'

'But you should be able to,' says Arthur, rolling his head to the side so that they can regard each other up close. He blinks owlishly. 'That's how it works. Everyone has the right to live how they like according to the law.'

'Hah, yeah. If it was that easy -'

'It's not easy,' says Arthur. 'It's not, because people are unfair and they don't understand, but we have to stick up for the law, or it's just a joke. If you want to do magic in public, if you want to fly to the shops on your broomstick or light your candles from your fingertips or prune your hedge with a spell, you do it, Merlin. Because the law is on your side now.'

Merlin realises he's holding his breath a little, and Arthur seems to realise just how close he's been leaning, and he moves like he's going to pull back, and Merlin moves forward, and then Arthur moves forward again -

They bump noses, and Merlin says 'Sorry, sorry,' and Arthur snorts and by that point it doesn't matter any more, because they're kissing, softly and carefully.

Arthur's hand finds Merlin's on the back of the sofa, and stays there.

***

Arthur and his father are arguing with each other in the Inspector's office again, but the door is shut and all the sound that comes through is dull and muffled, with only the occasionally 'Really!' or 'Bollocks!' or 'How stupid do you think I _am_?' shouted loud enough to bleed through.

Merlin watches while trying to look like he's not watching.

'Tea?' asks Gwen, coming through from the kitchenette. 'Oh, are they still at it?'

'The Sergeant thinks Michael, Sophie, Valiant and Edwin were murdered,' says Merlin glumly.

Gwen sinks into the chair next to him and balances her chin on her hand. 'I know what it looks like,' she says, 'but really, murder?'

'Gaius and the Inspector just don't want to think about it,' says Merlin a bit glumly.

'And you?'

'I'm … not sure.' Merlin sighs. 'I mean, I was there, I _saw_ Edwin - um, and I think the Sergeant's right that Michael, Sophie and Valiant all look a bit fishy, but …'

'But _murdered_? In Sandford? No-one's been murdered here in years!'

'Yeah, I know, but we did actually see ...' Merlin trails off. He doesn't really want to talk about that, mostly because the question, 'my word, what did you _do_?' is inevitable and what he did is not something he wants to talk about.

Gwen leans over and gives Merlin a one-armed cuddle. 'Don't fret, pet,' she says. 'The Inspector will sort it out.'

The thing is, that's what Merlin is afraid of. Arthur chooses this moment to storm out of his father's office again. 'Emrys,' he snaps. 'We're going on patrol.'

Gwen pats Merlin on the back sympathetically as he gets up, grabbing his hat from the table. He hurries after Arthur to their patrol car, pricking his ears to the muttering ahead of him. They get into the car and click their seatbelts, and Merlin counts five seconds going past before Arthur explodes.

'I can't _believe_ him,' Arthur fumes. 'The evidence is staring him in the face and all he does is deny it! He doesn't even come up with a counter-argument! He just looks me in the eye and tells me I'm wrong! Like I'm five years old again and I just don't understand!'

'It's the magic thing,' Merlin murmurs, and winces when Arthur whirls on him.

'It doesn't matter what it is, he's being a bloody fool. People have been killed.' He sets his jaw. 'Well. I'm not going to stand for it.'

'What, er, are you going to do?' Merlin asks tentatively.

' _We_ ,' says Arthur, eyes blazing, 'are going to do our duty.'

***

They round up two stray sheep from Golding's Lane. The swan's got out again, so they chase it away from the wishing-well. A family of German tourists need directions to the local farm-stay.

All in all, it's a very eventful day for rural policing, with no murders whatsoever.

They pull over in a lay-by off the main road, and Merlin switches the engine off. 'Are we done with our duty for the day?' he asks, looking at his watch. 'It's knocking-off time.' He wants to suggest that they maybe go back to his flat and do some more snogging, but he's not brave enough.

'I suppose we could go to the pub,' says Arthur - and then the knife comes through the ceiling, slicing through the thin aluminium and the felted lining as if it was butter.

'Shit!' says Arthur, scrabbling back in his seat. 'What the-'

'Hang on,' Merlin cries, and starts the car again, but the bloody starter motor won't catch, these cars have always been a problem - and then the knife comes down again and again, punching through the car, leaving gaping holes in the metal and the cloth ceiling lining.

'Do something!' Arthur roars. 'You're a warlock, aren't you?'

\- and Merlin stops turning the key and _blasts_ his power from the car. The whole chassis shakes violently, their attacker is thrown off, and Arthur, startled, swears a blue streak in the front passenger seat.

Merlin is left a little stunned. He's never, _ever_ used his power like that before, never been allowed to, and it's as if he's run a marathon with no training - now he's breathless and bruised.

'You - that -' says Arthur, sounding stunned, and then he says, 'Drive, for fuck's sake, Merlin!' because the crazy knife-wielder in the hood has got up again and is coming their way, and -

'Oh God,' whispers Merlin. 'Oh no, you have to to be kidding me -'

'What?'

Merlin doesn't answer, twists the key viciously and starts the car roaring to life, drives away with his accelerator pedal pushed flat to the floor, almost through it. Can't be right. There have to be plenty of people in the village who walk like that, who have long grey hair like that, who -.

'Merlin,' says Arthur. ' _Merlin_.'

'What?'

'We're almost on the motorway. For God's sake, what's the matter?' Arthur squints at him. 'Did you recognise that person? The murderer?'

'No.'

'Merlin?'

'Not really?'

'Tell me, Merlin,' says Arthur. 'Tell me now. I don't care who it is, they're dangerous. They'll kill again - they almost killed us. Think of everyone in this village, Merlin. Are their lives worth the freedom of that maniac?'

Merlin thinks of Gaius, who's his uncle in some nebulous way his mother was unclear about, and who's kept an eye on him since he moved to Sandford and who always had advice on managing his magic, keeping it safe and hidden, how to be careful. He thinks of Gaius, who's the doctor and who looks after everyone in the village, whether they're afflicted with sniffles or boils or sudden and mysterious cases of death.

He thinks about Gaius, with his crime scene access, whose authority no-one questions. Gaius who heads (and in fact, _is_ ) the Neighbourhood Watch Alliance, who goes to meetings with just the Inspector, who never seems worried by anything, surprised by anything.

'What's worth more,' Arthur asks in a low voice. 'Friendship with someone who tried to stab you, or the law?' And the way he says 'the law' makes something sing in Merlin's soul.

He takes a deep breath. 'I think it was Gaius,' he says. 'But - Arthur, I don't think he's in it alone.'

Arthur's eyes narrow, and he nods. 'You think it's my father,' he says, the first time he's called the Inspector that while in uniform. 'Don't you?'

'I just have this feeling,' says Merlin, which isn't the truth - actually he has a cast-iron certainty, but it's based on nothing more than Inspector Pendragon's prejudices and his own, well, gut-feeling. 'I know you don't want to think it, but -'

'No, I see where you're coming from,' Arthur says, sighing. 'I have to at least suspect him - Gaius can't have been at this alone, and if my father isn't involved he's got to be turning a blind eye.'

'What shall we do?' Merlin asks. 'If it's the Inspector and Gaius, who'll believe us?'

'It doesn't matter,' says Arthur. 'An arrest is an arrest.' He grabs his sunglasses off the dashboard, and cracks his knuckles. 'Put the lights on, Constable Emrys.'

***

Gaius is calmly writing in one of his big notebooks when they roar up to his surgery - Merlin can see him in the window of his study, bent over the page. He has what Merlin's mum always called 'doctor's handwriting', Merlin suddenly recalls. They used to joke about it.

Arthur gets his badge out, sticks his hat under his arm, knocks at the door efficiently. Merlin doesn't know how he does it, how he stays so calm when he knows he's about to have a big row. This is not a confrontation Merlin wants to have (he doesn't really want to have many, let's face it), but Arthur seems perfectly calm in the face of it.

'Dr Gaius -' Arthur starts as soon as the door opens, and behind it, mostly hidden, Gaius smiles.

'I assume you've come to the logical conclusion that I'm behind all these unfortunate accidents?' he says, and his smile turns sardonic. 'I'm afraid your logic is a bit weak, my boy.'

'I'm not your boy,' says Arthur. 'I'm an officer of the law, and I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder and of conspiracy to commit murder. You have the right-'

'I know my rights, thank you very much,' says Gaius. 'And I know what your father will say about this.' He lays it down like it's a trump card, standing just behind his door as if he can just slam it in the face of all of this.

'My father has no authority above the law. I'm arresting you-'

'If you want me to come down to the station, I'll come.' Gaius reaches behind the door and grabs for something, presumably his coat. 'But I'm an old man, Sergeant Pendragon, you can't be serious about cuffing me and shoving me into the back-seat of your car.'

'I'm very serious,' says Arthur, and produces his handcuffs between forefinger and thumb. 'Merlin -'

Merlin knows what he has to do. He steps forward to grab the edge of Gaius's door and open it fully, so that they can cuff him and take him down to the station. He knows the technique, he went through training college, even if he hasn't had to do it very often since he took up his position here in Sandford.

'C'mon,' he says a little gruffly. 'Gaius, it's going -'

He's going to say, 'to be okay', but Gaius kicks the door open and instead of a coat he's holding something that is probably technically a knife but looks a hell of a lot like a machete. He holds it exactly like he knows what he's doing. Which he does. He's a doctor - he knows how to cut people open.

"Whoa,' says Merlin, backing up with his hands in a 'stop' gesture. 'Um, Gaius, that's -'

'Threatening a police officer,' finishes Arthur, and the idiot _steps in front_ of Merlin, drawing his truncheon.

'What are you doing?' Merlin asks, frantic, trying to shove Arthur back behind him.

'The right thing,' says Gaius, and he looks sad and determined, and before Merlin or Arthur can do anything sensible, he stabs Arthur just under the bottom edge of his Kevlar vest.

Merlin sees the knife go in, slide out, like it's going through butter, and he catches Arthur as he falls, _shrieks_ his disbelief and feels his magic hammer out of his every pore again. It catches Gaius up and throws him against the hallway wall, blasting his front door wide open as it passes. 'Why?' Merlin cries. 'Why did you - you - what could possibly be worth people's lives like this?'

Gaius laughs hackingly, pinned against his own wallpaper. 'What did I always tell you about magic, Merlin?'

'To hide it, to not use it,' says Merlin. 'Not to _kill_ everyone who has it!' He shoves harder with his power, feeling the edges of it for the first time, stretching it for the first time. He leaves a dab to keep Gaius in place, and reaches out for Arthur, who's draped over his lap now, too still and hiccuping dizzily.

'Magic is poison,' says Gaius hoarsely. 'I tried to keep you safe from your own foolishness, for your mother's sake, but it seems to have infected you in the end.'

'Magic is legal now,' Merlin retorts. 'And killing people has always been against the law, so I don't see -' He can feel Arthur's blood seeping between his fingers, and he's trying to will the wound to heal, but it won't - it's like it's a place his magic can't go. He tries anyway, pushing and shoving and trying to force his power to do this for him, but it _won't_.

'We're just fighting back,' says Gaius. 'Fighting back against a plague. Everything that's ever gone wrong in Sandford was due to magic, Merlin; and the Inspector and I are just righting a few wrongs, putting things back how they should be, for the sake of all the innocent people who live here -'

There's a sudden cracking noise, and DS Morgause Gwyar and DC Morgana le Fay appear at Merlin's side in a whirl of wind and darkness. Morgause takes Arthur's floppy body from Merlin's arms and tears the velcroed stab-vest off him, flattens her palm to the wound in his side, and whispers something hoarse and crow-like. Morgana hauls Merlin to his feet.

'Get him down and cuff him,' she says, indicating Gaius, who is still fighting the shackles of Merlin's power. She shoves him when he doesn't immediately start moving. 'Come on, we don't have a lot of time!'

'Arthur -' Merlin starts, and Morgana pushes him again.

'I can't undo your magic,' she says impatiently. 'The longer you dither the less time Arthur has, idiot. Do it!'

Merlin takes the knife from Gaius's twitching hand, and drops it, kicks it away into the living room. Then he unreels his power, catching and cuffing Gaius as he falls. 'I still don't understand,' he mutters into the old man's ear, 'but I know one thing - you're _wrong_.'

'Come on,' says Morgause shortly. She's supporting Arthur with an arm around his shoulder. He's not bleeding, at least. 'Leave _that_ ,' she adds, nodding at Gaius with a disdainful expression on her beautiful face. 'We still have to catch the Inspector, remember?' She holds her other hand out to Morgana.

Morgana leans into Morgause in a way that gives Merlin some interesting thoughts for half a second, until she snaps, 'Merlin? We're going,' and grabs at him with her free hand. He drops Gaius almost out of fright.

The cracking noise comes again, whip-sharp, and they're whirled away.

***

Morgause's spell deposits them, in something approaching a heap, behind a hedge two doors down from the station. Arthur is starting to come to - Morgause checks his pulse and the smooth expanse of his side where the wound from Gaius's knife should have been, and peels one of his eyelids down impersonally. Arthur blinks and tries to push her away, and she bundles him over to Merlin.

'You're witches,' Merlin says, a little increduously, as he helps Arthur to sit up of his own volition.

'We prefer 'sorceresses',' says Morgana a little huffily. 'But yes, broadly speaking. And you're idiots.' She generously includes Arthur in this assessment. 'What, exactly, did you think you were doing?'

'Arresting a criminal?' Arthur offers. 'Doing our jobs?'

'We've been working on that traitor for nearly a year,' Morgause says, peering over the hedge. 'And then _you_ turn up, and suddenly he's killing more than ever. It's as if he was hurrying -'

'Hey, that's not Arthur's fault,' says Merlin indignantly. 'Or mine.'

'You couldn't leave well enough alone,' Morgana retorts. 'We nearly had them both neatly sewn up, and you burst in with your stupid _Bad Boys II_ act and ruined the whole thing.'

'Well, you've got Gaius now,' says Merlin, rolling his sleeves up. 'And between the four of us we ought to be able to get the Inspector, right?'

'You're talking about a siege situation,' says Arthur, struggling to his feet to stand with Morgause. His shirt is untucked and stained red-brown, and Merlin has to keep peeking to see that his cut really is gone. 'I can't let that happen.'

'It's happening whether you like it or not,' snaps Morgana. 'We have to get in there and get him out. You started this, Pendragon - don't baulk at your own tactics now.'

They start bickering, and Merlin figures this means Arthur is probably not going to drop dead (unless Morgana kills him, which is possible? She looks pretty irritable), and sidles over to Morgause.

'You can heal,' he says softly. 'You healed him.'

'I wasn't about to let another person die because of Gaius's treachery,' she mutters, and doesn't look at him properly. 'Although I wouldn't be at all surprised if none of us survive this day anyway - the Inspector'll have the rest of the force kitted out in there, and he'll be filling their heads with his lies.'

'Thank you,' says Merlin. 'He won't say it, so - Thank you. For saving his life.'

Morgause does look back at Merlin for a split second, and something almost like a smile lights her face. 'Yes, well,' she says. 'You can't heal, I take it?' she asks after a moment.

'No,' says Merlin. 'No, I don't think - I tried, but it didn't work.' He hates that. Out of the rush, he suddenly realises that if Morgana and Morgause hadn't showed up, Arthur might have died, and what could Merlin have done about it?

'What can you do?' Morgause asks. 'That was a serious amount of power you threw back there - that's how Morgana and I knew where to find you. You lit the local ley-lines up like fireworks. So, what can you do? What spell was that?'

'I don't know any spells,' Merlin mutters. 'I never practiced! I never did anything with it - it was illegal, remember?'

'That amount of power,' Morgause breathes, 'and untrained.' Her expression is faraway, as if she's imagining something wild and exciting. Then suddenly she snaps to again. 'Stop that, you two,' she says suddenly, turning. 'We're going in.'

'Someone's going to be killed,' says Arthur. He's getting better every minute - Merlin can see the colour returning to his skin, the strength to his voice. Whatever Morgause did to him, it's working. Merlin wonders if maybe she could teach him that - if perhaps the reason he can't heal is just that he doesn't know how.

'No-one's going to be killed,' says Morgause. 'We outgun them in every way.'

'Except for the part where we don't have guns,' Merlin feels the need to point out.

Morgana and Morgause share a look, golden-eyed as something passes between them, and Morgana smiles like a wolf. 'Perhaps we don't need them,' she says. 'How are you at shields?'

'I … don't know?' Merlin says, a little overwhelmed.

'You can guide him,' says Morgause, straightening up. She moves to Arthur's side, and nods at him. 'We'll take point - Arthur, to do the talking, and me -'

'To be the guns,' says Morgana, and she takes Merlin's arm. 'Don't worry, we'll be the best riot-shield you've ever seen. Right, Merlin?'

'Right,' says Merlin, and stands almost to attention. Morgana gives him a sly look and holds her hand out as if catching something. Merlin feels the flow of her power, and his own wants to follow it, like a puppy off the chain.

'Do what I do,' she says, and Merlin does, lets his magic run until it twines with hers and spills out to enclose the four of them in what he realises is his first shield.

'What _are_ you?' he asks, bewildered. 'You two - why are you here? Why are you doing this?'

'Later,' says Morgause. 'Right now, we have the Inspector to deal with. Let's move out, people,' she adds, and they walk.

It feels so bizarre, almost comic, to form into a little square and march out from behind a hedge like they're on crowd-control duty, but the fizz of magic around them makes it that much more dangerous, and the sight of the other police officers - Merlin's friends - filing out of the station door in full riot-kit makes it that much more real, more serious.

He doesn't want them to get hurt. He doesn't want to hurt them. But behind them is the Inspector. And Merlin has a duty. Maybe he's not exactly Harry Potter, but this is the job that's in front of him.

'Inspector Uther Pendragon?' Arthur calls out as they near the little fence that marks the front garden of the station. 'You're under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder.'

'Don't be ridiculous, Arthur,' says the Inspector, pushing past his subordinates. 'Step away from those criminals, and we'll deal with this sensibly.'

'They're not criminals, Father,' Arthur says. All Merlin can see of him is the set of his shoulders, but that tells him enough about how Arthur is going to play this. 'They've done nothing wrong. You, on the other hand -'

'I, on the other hand,' mimics the Inspector, 'am guilty of nothing more than setting this town to rights.'

'That's what Gaius said,' says Arthur. 'And you're both wrong. You don't get to decide the law for yourselves.'

'Then who should? A government who've never been out here, who don't know what it's like?' the Inspector demands. 'A government that would legalise magic for stupid, liberal, namby-pamby reasons because they've never felt the harm that it can do?'

'What harm has magic ever done you?' Arthur demands. 'It's time you gave up this stupid crusade, Father.'

'What harm?' the Inspector almost spits it. ' _What harm_? More harm than anyone could ever know, Arthur. Magic killed your mother,' he hisses. 'Magic took her away from us and can never bring her back.'

'Mother died in a motorway collision,' says Arthur, and he's starting to walk forward again, step by step. Merlin's shield starts to stretch and bulge, trying to keep him within it.

'Nimueh killed her,' the Inspector growls. 'Her own best friend took her life, made it look like an accident, all to pay off some evil debt she'd accrued. That's what happens when you use magic, Arthur. There's always a price -'

'It was your price!' Morgause cries suddenly, as if she can't stop herself. Morgana clutches Merlin's arm hard, her fingernails biting into his skin, and he _feels_ her part of the shield-magic shiver. 'It was your price to pay, you cheap old man - it was your request, your desperation, that made Nimueh cast the spell - it should have been you that paid the price for Arthur's conception -'

Even the birds seem to stop calling for a split second, as Morgause realises what she's said and everyone else takes it in.

'You lie, witch,' hisses the Inspector. 'Like all your kind. Arthur, come. You other three are under arrest -'

'No,' says Arthur, his voice ringing clear. 'No, that - that doesn't matter right now. What matters is that you've committed crimes -'

The Inspector doesn't wait for him to finish his sentence - just ducks back into the station.

'After him!' Arthur roars, and darts forward, only to be met with the wall of his coworkers and their Perspex riot-shields.

'What the hell is going on?' is Gwaine's question, and beside him Lancelot and Gwen nod.

'The Inspector and Gaius have been killing people with magic because they've got twisted grudges,' Merlin babbles desperately. 'And we caught Gaius but now the Inspector's going to escape unless you help us!'

'Do you mean all those accidents really were murders?' asks Gwen, and Merlin can see she's adding up all of the coincidences and doesn't like the inevitable conclusion.

'Yes!'

'Well, that would explain a lot,' muses Lancelot. 'And are you lot all magical?' he asks, indicating Merlin, Morgana, Morgause and Arthur.

'We are, he isn't,' says Merlin, pointing at Arthur. 'He's just obsessive about police procedure.'

'Can we please get on with chasing the murderous felon?' Arthur grits, and pushes through. 'He's gone out the back door!' he shouts back as he charges into the station. 'He's headed towards the main square, try and cut him off!'

The sound of three plastic visors being slammed down in unison registers in Merlin's hearing just as Lancelot says, 'Shall we, then?' and leads the charge.

Morgause grabs Merlin by the arm. 'They're going to do this by the book,' she says. 'And if we're very, very lucky, that's going to work. But if it doesn't, you need to be ready, do you hear me?'

"What?' Merlin asks, bewildered. 'Ready for what?'

'Ready to use your power,' she says. 'If you have to.'

'I don't -' Merlin tries to pull free, to chase after Arthur and the rest of them, but Morgause won't let him go.

She sighs, and then says, 'You have to understand, Merlin - I'm old and I'm skilled. I know many spells. And Morgana's young and sprightly, and knows a few spells. But you're _powerful_ , more powerful than either of us.'

'I'm untrained,' Merlin points out, still trying to go, even if he has to drag her with him. 'And the Inspector isn't magical, and the people with the weapons are on our side - I don't see what you're afraid of.'

'I hope you're right,' she says, cryptically. 'But be ready, Merlin, trust me.' She lets go.

He runs.

***

When he skids into the main square, it's too late - he's missed all the action. The timing is so perfect, he has to wonder if Morgause held him back deliberately. The picture is like something off a book-cover - Arthur has his father in handcuffs, spitting his anger and bile all over the cobblestones, and they're surrounded foursquare by Gwen, Gwaine and Lancelot, all with truncheons at the ready, and Morgana, who's got a palmful of fire and looks just about ready to use it.

'Come on,' says Arthur, jerking the Inspector (is he still the Inspector when he's been arrested?) to his feet. 'I'm taking you down to the station.'

Merlin trails behind them all, trying to shake the nasty taste of anticlimax. It's all over. Justice will be served. All loose ends tied up.

***

They're puzzling over the paperwork as a group - Lancelot made tea - trying to work out exactly what boxes to put 'magic used in pursuit of a felon' into, seeing as magic was only legalised at the beginning of the week, and the various forms they have to fill in haven't caught up yet, when there's an ominous rumbling outside the station. Merlin feels it in his bones a split second before the furniture starts shaking.

'What the - ?' says Gwaine, standing up abruptly.

'Merlin,' says Morgause, but Merlin knows.

'Everybody _back_ ,' he says, and recalls the feeling of the shield Morgana taught him, weaves it again and throws it behind himself to cover the others as Gaius stomps through the door.

He looks the worse for wear, looks tired and gaunt, handcuffs dangling from one wrist, the other end twisted and broken, but he doesn't look like a man who's come to give himself up peacefully.

'I've come for the Inspector,' he says.

'I'm sorry, we don't allow cell-sharing,' says Arthur, beside Merlin. Too close. He didn't get back, he didn't get _behind_ \- he's out in the open and Merlin can't protect him there.

'Arthur, shut up,' growls Merlin, trying to call the shield forward to envelop Arthur as well and yet summon up more power as a weapon. He has no idea what he's doing, only a vague notion of what he _wants_ to do. He has a bad feeling about this, about the way Gaius is standing, and about the way his lips are moving. He shouldn't - Gaius doesn't have magic, or at least, Gaius never said he had magic, and why would Gaius hate magic if he had it -

'What are you going to do?' he asks, cutting through his own confusion. 'Gaius, please just give it up. You're not going to win.'

'This town needs the Inspector,' says Gaius. 'This town needs to be rid of magic for good -'

\- and then Gaius proves Merlin's confused internal babbling right, and throws a fireball the size of a watermelon straight at him.

Merlin freezes, clenches tight on the shield he'd made, and then realises all over again that Arthur isn't behind it when the idiot _leaps in front of it_.

Everything goes black and loud and confused as the fireball explodes, and there's screaming and coughing, and Merlin is knocked backwards by something heavy and warm … and when the smoke clears, Gaius is folded over, pale and bruised, and Arthur is sprawled over Merlin and he _isn't moving_.

'Arthur?' he asks, shaking his shoulder, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears. 'Arthur? Come on, Arthur, get up. Arthur? …' He shoves his magic fiercely into Arthur's body, trying to breathe for him, trying to pump his blood, but it still won't go. 'Come _on_ , Arthur -' This can't be happening. He can't lose Arthur like this, he can't, he _can't_ -

***

_One Year Later_

' _Inspector, we've got a couple of kids knocking over dustbins with explosive charms down by Spinner's Lane_ ' crackles Gwen's voice down the radio.

'Righto, Gwen, we're on it,' says Inspector Arthur Pendragon. 'Warlock Constable Emrys, fancy doing the honours?'

Merlin grins, and twiddles a finger to fire up the lights and siren, and they blast through the village to the site of the disturbance, as they like to call it. A couple of reprimands later, and it's a job well done.

'You going to see your dad this week?' Merlin asks as they poodle back down the main street.

'Thursday,' says Arthur. 'The guards asked if I could please not come in uniform this time - apparently it makes the prisoners a bit restless.'

'Makes sense,' Merlin allows. 'How's he doing?'

'Same old same old,' says Arthur. 'He'll never get parole if he keeps blaming everything on magic, you know.'

'Do you … ever see Gaius, when you go visiting?' Merlin asks tentatively. He's never gone, and he's starting to think maybe one day he should. After all, at the very least it might be good to try and understand why Gaius did what he did.

Merlin doesn't want to end up like that.

'Sometimes,' says Arthur. He makes a face like he understands. 'He's looking fairly spry.'

'Good, that's good.' Merlin doesn't say anything else. He hope Gwen will radio in with something nice and distracting, but no luck.

Arthur breaks the silence with a bit of a cough. 'How's the training going?'

'Good,' says Merlin. 'This week we're learning more fire spells.' Morgause and Morgana left Sandford after the Inspector and Gaius were stopped. Well, they'd never really been detectives anyway - they were members of MI5's Druid Division. But Morgause has taken it upon herself to train Merlin along with her new Druid recruits. He doesn't like spells very much - would rather just _do_ things, but he has to admit, he's learnt some useful tricks along the way.

'As in setting things on fire, or putting out fires?' Arthur asks suspiciously. He's been the victim of a few of Merlin's accidents in practice.

'Both,' Merlin reassures him. 'So if I get the first type wrong I can hopefully fix it.'

'Unless you get that wrong as well.' Arthur rolls his eyes. They pull up at the station.

'Oh, ye of little faith,' Merlin harrumphs. 'Cup of tea time, do you think?' he adds as they get out of the car.

Arthur takes his helmet off. 'Sounds lovely,' he says.

It's just another day in rural policing. (But as they get just inside the station door, Arthur yanks Merlin into the circle of his arm and kisses the corner of his mouth, smiling.)

**Author's Note:**

> NB: The scene with the knife and the car roof was almost entirely stolen from _Rocknrolla_.


End file.
